Date: Fri, 05 Jul 2002 03:45:27 +0100
From: sykray@hotmail.com
Subject: Mr. Wood on Wednesdays

All the usual cautions, disclaimers and warnings apply.  I want to make it
clear that although I write about adult-youth sex, I do not approve of the
abuse of power or authority.  This is almost total fantasy.  In this case,
the story is completely true until the point where Brian has an erection.
It is a memory from my teens but no sex took place.  We did swim and do
yoga after school and he did teach me to catch a ball with one hand - no
massage, no sex, though he was gay.  This is what I wanted to happen.

Mr. Wood on Wednesdays

Roger hated Wednesdays.  He didn't like school much any more.  Oh, the
bullying had stopped.  Well, at least on a physical abuse level.  No one
had actually hit him for the past three years since he was 13.  Until then,
he had quite liked school.  He was very good at most subjects.  No, until
he was 13, school itself was OK.  It was the break-times and the coming
home from school that he hated then.  That's when the bigger boys got him.
Maybe, not even hated but feared.  Now, he didn't like school much, full
stop.  It was OK on most days but not Wednesdays and Fridays.  Though on
Fridays it wasn't so bad 'cos weekend was coming.

Roger was slim now since his major growth spurt late in his 14th year.  He
was 5ft 10in and 10 stones in weight (140 pounds).  His short hair was
mid-brown and his hazel eyes were bright and observant.  He was handsome
but not very popular.  He was a nerd.  Most importantly, he didn't join in.
His feelings about other boys were definitely mixed.  As a group of
individuals, he didn't like them much.  They had always seemed to him as
rough, crude, loud, too .. physical.  He had never been good physically.
His coordination was pretty poor.  He couldn't ride a bike.  Roger couldn't
catch a ball. He was useless at football - any sports really.  He disliked
competition and couldn't grasp any sense of team sports, participating or
observing.  That had been the root of the excuses for bullying him.  They
thought him weedy, girly or wet and he was defiantly non-macho.  Anything
that boys were supposed to be into, Roger would dismiss as pointless,
boring or puerile.  They hit him for it.  They teased him.  They made snide
remarks about his sexuality.

And there they had hit on the truth.  Roger didn't think they really
believed him to be gay but he wasn't sure.  But he was sure that they were
right.  That was the other part of the mixed feelings.  Some guys gave him
fluttering sensations in his chest when he looked at them.  He might feel a
bit light-headed or faint.  He would often feel a stirring in his pants.
He thought about certain boys when he wanked each night in bed.  He would
imagine kissing them, holding their hand, hugging them and then as he
neared orgasm the pictures were of them naked with jutting erections.
Erections that he could stroke or suck.  Sometimes he would imagine them
fucking him or if he didn't like a boy who was crassly macho but he fancied
him - maybe someone who had bullied him, then Roger would imagine fucking
them, forcibly penetrating them and shafting them until they whimpered and
sobbed in their humiliation at ejaculating with his big dick up their bum.
They might not want to be fucked but by the end they would be begging for
more.

So, what was a boy to do?  No good at sports; hating sports and PE; and
being scared of getting turned on in changing rooms or showers.  Roger had
tried going to games or PE lessons.  He had thrilled to see all these guys
stripping off; catching glimpses of their dicks; showering with them
afterwards and desperately hoping not to get a hardon.  Doing difficult
mental arithmetic, thinking of dead animals squashed by cars in the road
and anything else he could imagine which might put him off getting excited.
But the exquisite torture of sexual frisson and fear of being discovered
getting aroused or looking too long at someone's naked crotch did not
compensate for the sheer horror or confusion about the activities expected
of him in PE or sports.

He had first tried the excuse notes - both real and more often forged.  He
couldn't always turn up with a note so sometimes had to do sport or gym.
About a year ago, he had decided just not to turn up.  They had a new games
master; it was the start of a new school year, if he was never there then
how could he be made to do it.  The teacher didn't know him from Adam so he
wouldn't be challenged.  All Roger had to do was keep out of the way until
those school periods were over.  And that was the nerve-wracking bit of the
scheme.  That was why Roger hated Wednesdays.  Sport all afternoon.
Fridays PE but it was then the end of the week so he could handle Fridays.

Roger had hung around in the boys' toilets for 15 minutes until everyone
had changed and gone out to play football.  He emerged to find some other
place to skulk undetected until afternoon closing registration and
home-time.  He walked slap bang into Mr. Wood.  Roger had been looking
behind himself as he scurried along the corridor.  Mr. Wood's arms closed
around Roger and then held him firmly at arms-length by the biceps.

"Look where you are going, boy."

"Er, sorry, sir."

"Where are you going?  Shouldn't you be in class?  Why are you wandering
around the corridors like a thief?"

Cornered, Roger blushed and stammered.  He had collided with the games
master - his beloved enemy.  Oh, yes!  There was the other angle on Roger's
feelings about games.  Mr. Wood was only 22 and was, to Roger's point of
view, drop dead gorgeous.  Brian Wood was 6 foot tall and had the body of a
gymnast.  Nicely muscled but not too bulky.  A smile played around his
sensuous lips most of the time.  He often wore tight shorts and tight
T-shirts, which left very little to the imagination.  Or, he would wear
sweatpants and top.  You could see the outline of his dick in them and the
tip would move beneath the pants as he walked.  In a co-ed school he would
have had to dress more modestly.  Here in an all-boys school, no one
thought too much about seeing bulging crotches and genital outlines.  Roger
was pleased about that.  This man was very exciting.  Roger had felt as if
he had died and gone to heaven for a brief moment as the man had held him
close to his chest.

"I've been for a pee, sir."

"What year are you in?  You look about 16.  Shouldn't you be doing games
with me this afternoon?  Who are you?"

Roger's customary quick intellect failed him.  He couldn't seem to
manufacture a false name and a false year at the same time.  Lust numbed
the boy's cognitive processes.

"Er. um, sir. Aah. I . er. Sir. I am. "

"I don't know you.  I should know all the boys by sight if not all by name
after being here for almost a year.  But, I've not seen you before.  Mmmh.
Can't be new to the school.  Your uniform is not new enough.  Well,
Mr. Stutterer, Mr. Corridor Creeper, Mr. I think you're skipping games, you
had better come with me."

Mr. Wood gently but firmly propelled Roger to the changing rooms.  One hand
resting on Roger's shoulder, the other swinging his whistle on the end of
its string.  He unlocked the master's changing room and he pushed Roger in.

"Sit."  He pointed to the bench.  "Now, let me make this clear before you
speak.  You've had a chance to think of whatever lies you have chosen to
cover yourself.  I would strongly, very strongly, advise you not to lie to
me.  I am expecting dissembling and mendacity so, unless you tell the truth
or your lies are foolproof in their consistency and credibility, I will not
believe a word you say."

Roger wondered how he could lie to someone he loved, a man he wanted, a man
he needed.  Perhaps he had read too much romantic poetry, but Roger was a
romantic idealist.  No, he couldn't lie to Mr. Wood, even if it meant he
was in deep shit or got expelled.

"I hate games, sir.  I'm no good at them.  No one wants me on his team.  I
don't understand the rules of most games.  I've always hated doing them.  I
get out of them whenever I can.  When you came, you didn't know me so I
thought it was best just to keep out of your way and not turn up for
games."  It all tumbled out of Roger.  All the pain and fear, all the
ridicule and humiliation, all the being bullied, all the not belonging, all
the being on the outside looking in - it all came up as overwhelming
feelings and even though he didn't speak of all of it, it was there in his
guts and sounded in his voice.

"What's your name?  Just your first name will do for now."

"Sir, Roger, sir."

"Roger, you've been very lucky not to get caught by anyone so far and most
unlucky that today I've left your peers to get on with their games without
supervision.  I wanted some quiet time to myself.  In a way, I've skived
off, too, this afternoon.  I want to talk with you so you just sit there.
First, I have to get showered.  I feel all sweaty."

Roger watched, trying not to stare or let his gaze be too obvious, as Mr.
Wood, unfastened his trainers.  He removed them and his socks.  He pulled
off his T-shirt to reveal his nicely toned upper torso, lightly wisped with
hairs between his pecs and in his armpits.  Roger began to tremble.  He
felt scared and excited.  He couldn't avoid getting hard and discreetly
prodded at his erection to put it in a more comfortable position.  Any
moment now, Brian Wood was going to take off those tight shorts.  Indeed,
he did.  He stood in front of Roger in his tight white underpants and
looked down on the youth.  Roger's eyes were fixed on Brian's very full and
bulging crotch.  He didn't see the curious look that the teacher gave to
the top of his head.  Brian hesitated and then shrugged.  He pulled down
his pants and Roger found it difficult to breathe.
  Brian had a flaccid cock that hung down 4 inches, heavy and uncut.

Roger imagined having it in his mouth, feeling its rigidity and heat.  His
dick throbbed inside his pants and he felt as though he was going to cum
any minute.  Squashed dead cats, pools of vomit, turds floating in the
toilet, blood pouring from an amputated limb.  The imminence of ejaculation
waned but the slight nausea that Roger felt increased many fold.

Brian stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain across.  Roger sat
nervously listening to the falling water, smelling the mix of sweat and
perfumed soap.
  Time moved in a weird way so that it seemed both an age and brief second
before the water stopped and the curtain opened again.

"Hand me that towel, please, Roger.  Thanks."

Brian rubbed himself dry.

"Don't be afraid to look, Roger.  I am just another young man, like you.
You can look at me, if you want."

What does he mean? Wondered Roger.  Does that mean that he and I are just
men and it just so happens that he is naked or does he mean he is gay like
me?  He thought that he might be reading too much into the remark.

Brian sat down on the bench, towel loosely draped over his lap but his
crotch was uncovered.  Roger wanted to look but didn't dare.  He wanted to
look into Brian's eyes but couldn't.  He gazed straight ahead.

"I've always been good at physical things.  I'm a natural athlete.  I was a
passably good gymnast but didn't quite make the British team but I was a
junior national gymnast.  I can't really understand why you don't like
games.  It was the thing about school that I really looked forward to.  I
think most boys see it as a welcome break from academic studies.  Clearly,
you are poorly coordinated but all the more reason to do PE and games.
There are many boys who are hopeless at maths or can't get the hang of
foreign languages.  Should we let them skive off and not bother going to
lessons, Roger?  No, I don't think so.  Similarly, shouldn't I encourage
you to learn in my lessons?"

Roger began to weep.  He couldn't help it.  Mr. Wood was being so nice
about it.  He could see the point his teacher was trying to make.  He was
relieved that he wasn't in serious trouble.  He was frightened and
resentful that he would have to attend lessons from now on.  He was sitting
next to a fantastic love-god who was naked - his dick on open display just
inches from him.  Roger could feel the heat from Mr.  Wood's body as it
pressed against him.  He just couldn't stop himself from crying.

Brain put his arm around the youth's shoulders and pulled him close.  Roger
could feel the man's breath hot on his scalp as the man pressed his mouth
against the top of his head.

"I'm not an ogre, Roger.  I don't like the idea of you hating me."

"I don't hate you, sir.  I'm sorry.  I'm trying not to cry."  Roger
snuggled into the warm strong arms.

"Just let all those horrible uncomfortable feelings out.  I think I can
appreciate that you feel all sorts of things right now.  You mentioned
being bullied in the past.  You've said that you don't feel like other
boys.  You feel like an outsider - that you don't belong.  I understand
that.  In many ways, I also felt the same.  I spent all my spare time
training in gymnastics.  So what with that and homework I didn't have much
time for friends.  Other boys were mucking about but I didn't have the
time.  Other guys started dating girls but I wanted to get better and
better at gymnastics.  I didn't want a girlfriend.  Oh, I see that you've
stopped the tears.  That's better."

He pulled away slightly and wiped the lingering tears from Roger's cheeks.
"Can we be friends, do you think?  Can you stop this resentment towards me?
Perhaps, here in private, you can call me Brian."

"I don't resent you, . Brian.  I love you."  Oh my god!!  I've said it.
Oh, shit!  What now?  I've really screwed up, now.

Brian blushed and the pink flush went down from his face, reddening his
throat, his chest, his belly and even his crotch.  Roger was rigid with
embarrassment at what he had revealed but he could still marvel at the
spreading blush.  His erection had subsided but seeing the pink blush
infusing Brian's long penis had begun to stir him again.

Brian took a deep breath.  "Thank you.  I'm flattered.  I'm pleased.  Like
I was saying, we have more in common than you realise.  I said before that
I had sneaked off to be alone with my thoughts.  The truth is that I am
worried about being a teacher.  I have reached 22 years old without having
had sex with anyone.  Oh yes, Roger, I'm a virgin.  I thought that I could
live without having a partner.  I thought I could just wank my way to the
grave.  I didn't have to have someone else.  I'm realising that I have to
review that decision.  I want and need to make love to someone.  I work
amongst young teenage men - some of whom are very attractive.  I see naked
teenagers every working day.  I watch them skimpily clothed in the gym, on
the playing fields.  I can't always concentrate on watching the game
because some young man has caught my eye.  I think that I have to stop
teaching.  Maybe, if I had a boyfriend it would help.  I might not then get
so obsessed with students.  But to have a boyfriend could lead to others,
students, parents finding out and not liking the idea of a gay man spending
all his working time in the company of naked and semi-naked boys.  So, my
dear Roger, we are alike."

Roger put his arms around the naked man and hugged.

"Roger, you're the first young man that I have held like this.  I have had
bear hugs from my coach or other guys when I have performed well in
competition.  But this feels different."

Roger watched with wide eyes as Brian's dick began to grow.  It lengthened
and thickened and stiffened until it was about 8 inches long.  Roger
hesitated for a moment then reached out to hold it.  He gently and slowly
pulled back the foreskin and began to rhythmically wank his teacher.

"This isn't a good idea, darling.  I think you should stop."  He bit his
lip but didn't make any move to end Roger's pleasuring.  "We really
shouldn't but I want you to.  I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Brian.  I've been in love with you since you
arrived.  I've dreamed of doing this so many times.  And now that I can,
I'm be damned if I'm going to stop."

Brian giggled.  "Perhaps you should release your own erection.  Your crotch
is looking very strained.  Stop a minute and stand up."

Roger stood and let Brian undress him.  A couple of minutes later, he stood
naked with Brian's hands resting lightly on his hips.  His 6-inch dick
jutted out twitching and bobbing in front of the man's face.  Brian bent
forward and enclosed the rod in the hot wetness of his mouth and sucked on
Roger.  Roger shuddered and came.

"Sorry.  I came too quickly.  I was too excited."

"That's OK.  At your age, you can quickly recover and get hard again.  Your
cum tastes sweet, a bit sour, a tiny bit bitter but definitely sweet.
Here, kiss me and taste your cum on my tongue."

They kissed deeply and longingly, tongues flicking in and out of each
other's mouth.

"I'm going to suck you, now.  Stand up and let me sit down."

Brian stood.  "It's bigger than average.  Maybe you should just take the
head of it in your mouth and wank the rest."

Roger licked up the shaft from the balls to the tip and back down again.
He sucked each ball into his mouth and then gently nibbled up the side of
Brian's hard cock, stopping just before the glans and opening his mouth
wide to take the purple head.  A combination of sucking and stroking had
his mouth filling with spurt after spurt of the teacher's cum within 2 or 3
minutes.

"Mmmh, nice.  A bit like swimming pool water and snot.  No, really.  I like
it.  You taste sweet, too.  Look, I'm ready again."

"Sorry, sweetheart, we can't.  The games will be finishing soon and we both
need to get dressed.  We can make love another time.  But not at school.  I
want you to learn to enjoy your body.  All your body, not just your dick.
I guess that it won't work to make you attend classes.  I want you to work
with me some evening each week or maybe at the weekend.  I will teach you
some yoga.  I'll teach you how to catch a ball.  We will go swimming
together.  We can massage each other.  I can see by your face what you
think that will mean.  I'm serious, Roger, we will massage properly.  And,
yes, if I trust you to be very sensible and discreet about it, we can learn
to make love together.  This will be our secret.  I will tell my colleagues
and your parents about the yoga and swimming.  I think I can make them
understand why I think it better than forcing you to do it at school.  As a
games teacher, I'm expected to do extra-curricular activities with
students; so, it might not be too much of a problem.  Are we agreed?  Good.
Come on, now, quickly, get dressed."

Roger liked Wednesdays.  They were the best day of the week.  Wednesday
evenings were when he saw his boyfriend, Brian.  Wednesdays were when he
did yoga, swimming, massage and played catch with the man he loved and who
loved him.  And they always ended up having sex before he went home.


Fraser Cameron
June 2002

sykray@hotmail.com